Heart Grenade
by guitarsNthings
Summary: To use the phrase Jo said in 'Unfriendly Chat', "Can't keep your feelings bottled up; contents may explode under pressure." Danny/Adam  dAmn
1. Lucky

**Author's Note  
**If you've read my stories _100 Prompts_, _I Fell_, _Tone Deaf_ and _Seven Days_, you know that I tend to write in the same basic style. This is actually one of my few attempts at writing a story in a POV format. Consider this as my attempts to get into the CSI: New York characters' heads, mainly Adam's. I feel like I can write him the best out of all the characters, Danny being a close second. This story will be multi-chapter, mainly because I have no idea where I'm going with it. I may or may not be changing the rating from T to M as of Chapter 4 (titled _Virginity_), and I may rewrite Chapter 4 entirely, so bear with me. Also, I'm open to constructive criticism, so feel free to send a PM with your thoughts. I always appreciate feedback from my readers!

**Disclaimer  
**I don't own CSI: New York, it's characters, the show's timeline, or the New York Crime Lab. However much I want to own Danny and Adam and make them do naughty things together, it will never, ever happen. I do, however, own the plot of this story and all original characters.

**Word Count: **1038**  
POV:** Adam Ross  
**Pairing: **Danny Messer/Adam Ross (dAmn)

**

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Lucky

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It starts out with a look.

You know, _the_ look. The one that sticks with you all day after someone sends it your way. It's the one you dream about, the one you want to see night after night, even if it is only in figments of your imagination.

Sometimes I feel a little like a preteen girl, the way I can't get my heart to calm down after getting one of _those_ looks from him.

Not to mention it's just flirting, which makes me feel stupid. He doesn't like me. He wouldn't like me if he knew all about my flaws and my insecurities. Scratch that, he knows about those. He has this way of coaxing that out of me, better than anyone I've ever known. Even better than the shrink my dad made me go to because he thought I wasn't right in the head.

Back to the point.

He can't like me. Not like that. I've been with other guys, yeah, but none that get under my skin like he can. But no, he isn't like me. I haven't been 'with' him, not even alone in my apartment with him.

Not to mention the nickname he bestowed upon me my second week of work. Buddy. I'll never be anything more than that; a 'buddy'. Someone he can hang out with. After all, he's got his 'Montana'.

Listen to me; I'm jealous of a woman.

Oh god, he's saying my name.

Then comes the touch.

It starts out as a pat on the shoulder, maybe a handshake, even. But his fingers are curling around my shoulder. I start to get dizzy before I snap back to the present.

Why do I have to be like this? I'm being so immature about it, too.

I can smell his cologne from where I'm standing. That's one of the things I like about him. He just smells _so_ good. I blink, trying to get my mind off of him. Once I think he's gone, I take a deep breath, and I can still smell his cologne lingering in the air.

He's still here. He's saying my name again. I can't do this right now. I can't think about the way his fingers curled around my shoulder almost two minutes ago.

He's asking me if something's wrong. I want to shout, "Yes, something's wrong! I'm in love with the one person I can't have!" But I stay silent as I shake my head. I don't want to open my mouth, because I know all those feelings I have bottled up will come rushing out.

He throws me a lopsided grin, and I almost melt.

He has no idea how crazy he's making me, and I crack my neck, hoping the tension that's just built there will go away. His phone rings, and he answers it with his usual, "Messer." He listens to the other person, and then he starts talking and I realize it's his 'Montana'. That's another thing that I like about him; that Brooklyner's accent.

Ok, fine, I'll admit it: I'm in love with him. But he has his 'Montana'. And no matter how much I want that Brooklyn native, nothing will change the fact that he's straight. In high school terminology, he's the jock and I'm the geek. When you got to lunch, he'd be the kid sitting with the pretty cheerleaders, laughing when the geek, or me, trips over a backpack.

He's saying my name for the third time. I look over at him, and he tells me to not let Mac catch me daydreaming. I sigh in response, and he pats me affectionately on the shoulder, but he lingers for a moment. I want him to stay a little longer, but then he's out the door.

I watch him leave, and my heart skips. But then he starts walking back toward me, and I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear him call my name.

Yeah? I reply, or try to. The next thing I know is that he's standing right behind me, and when I turn to face him, he takes another step closer.

He's seriously invading my personal space, but I don't care. I can almost see my reflection in his eyes, and then his lips connect with mine. When he pulls away, I can see that his lips are a little bit swollen, and then he gives me that look.

That one that has that little bit of smoldering passion and that lopsided grin that I love.

He tells me to get back to work, and then steals another kiss, and I realize his hands are on my hips. He walks out of the lab, and I turn back around to the evidence on the table.

I have this goofy grin on my face, and I'm pretty sure when Stella walks in to check on me, she's wondering why I'm so happy.

The fact is, I'm happy because everything I've ever wanted was just handed to me.

And he's walking through the door to the lab, and I smile to myself as he looks over at me. He returns my smile, and I look down at the light table in front of me.

Yeah, that's me, a love-sick geek.

And as I take a deep breath, I hear him walk into the lab, greet Stella, then me, and then, out of Stella's gaze, he slips a hand around my lower back. It's enough to let me know he doesn't regret kissing me before.

When Stella leaves the two of us alone in the lab, he leans over and places a feather light kiss on my jaw, and presses a slip of paper into the palm of my hand. He whispers that he wants me to come over later, that he wants us to have our first date. I nod, and Mac walks into the lab, and Danny smiles at me, greets Mac, and walks towards the door of the lab.

His shift finishes in two minutes, and I know he's going to his place to clean up.

I feel my heart leap a little, and then I go back to processing the evidence.

I'm lucky to have someone like him.


	2. First 'Date'

**Review Replies  
**mjels - Thanks! *hugs*

**Readers  
**I decided to tone down chapter four so the story can remain at a T rating. Because they're cute. And I like cute. So this entire story will have happy, mushy, lovely snuggling but NO smut.

**Word Count:** 787**  
POV:** Adam Ross**  
Pairing:** Danny Messer/Adam Ross (dAmn)

**

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First 'Date'**

I see him standing in the rain outside his apartment, soaking wet, and I see him drop his keys.

I hurry up the stairs to the door, and bend down to pick up the keys. He greets me, and I unlock the door, and he goes inside. I follow him, and once we're in his apartment, he sets the bag he was carrying down, and goes to his bedroom.

He's telling me that the night's pretty much ruined, all the things that he'd gotten to cook with are sopping wet and we can order in, if that's all right with me. I go to find him, and he's standing in front of the dresser, peeling his soaked clothes off.

I hesitate in the doorway. I know that he's got all the same body parts I do, but I'm nervous. I tell him the night's not completely ruined, and he turns to look at me. He looks somewhat akin to a drowned cat, the way his hair's sticking up in various places. I smile, and he returns it. I lose my inhibitions somewhere between the door and him, and I don't care that he's still wearing his soaked jeans and the beater that was under his shirt.

We kiss, and things suddenly take a turn. His tongue runs across my bottom lip, and I open my mouth a little. I feel his tongue slip into my mouth, glide across my tongue, and he brushes his knuckles against my jaw.

I pull back, because I know we should be taking things slow. I tell him that he should probably get into some dry clothes, and he nods. I want to stay and watch him undress, but I know that if I don't leave the bedroom now, I might not leave it for hours on end.

I walk out into the kitchenette, but really, it's leaning more towards a full kitchen, and get the bag of groceries, trying to see if there's anything I can salvage from the waterlogged products. A bottle of red wine is pretty much the only thing I pull from the bag that's not completely soaked. I remember that one time, I told him that I didn't drink white wine, only red.

I can hear him quietly walking up behind me, and when he leans over my shoulder, he whispers to me that he remembered that I don't drink white wine. I feel his fingers on my hips, and I wonder what's going through his head.

You see, I've been hurt a lot in the past, and not just by my dad. I have trust issues, especially when it comes to people I've been in relationships with. See, about a year ago, I was in a relationship, and I got hurt pretty badly. I'd trusted the guy too much, and he turned around and hurt me. No one, except for Mac, knew about it, but he knew because I ended up in the hospital after my 'lover's' idea of fun.

I know it seems foolish, but I don't feel like I deserve to be in another relationship.

He's saying my name, pulling me out of my reverie. Only then do I realize I'm shaking a little. The memories from that one relationship make me so scared at times. I feel like I can't trust even myself at times with other people. I know that with him, I'm safe, but I'm so scared. He's asking me what's wrong now, and I know he's concerned.

So I tell him. I tell him everything. He stands there, taking my words in, and then he turns me around so that I'm facing him. He tells me that I'm perfect the way I am, and that he wouldn't have me any other way. It's a little cliché, but it stops my shaking. He reaches over to the counter for the cordless phone, and asks me if I want to order in.

When he's done, he links the fingers of his right hand with my left hand fingers and he leads me into the living room. He sits down on the floor, his back up against the couch, and I sit down between his legs, leaning back into his chest. We sit like this for a while, and I'm content to have his fingers lace with mine across my stomach.

When dinner's finally finished, he asks me to stay. Neither of us have to work tomorrow. He says that we don't have to have sex; that he's not in this relationship solely to use me for sex.

I fall asleep next to him in bed, and when I wake, he's tracing random patterns on my back.

I could get used to this.

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_Reviews are always._


	3. Truth

**Review Replies  
**mjels - Thank you very much!

**Readers  
**Been a little pissed off at Comcast for about a week. Expect reviews whenever I can get WiFi.

**Word Count:** 922**  
POV: **Adam Ross**  
Pairing:** Danny Messer/Adam Ross (dAmn)

**

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Truth**

I'm not sure how much longer we can keep this a secret.

I stared down at the evidence, and then in walks Danny, telling me to give some results to Mac when I see him. He has to go bring a suspect in, and I start to worry a little. He tells me that I shouldn't worry, that he'll be fine; he has a gun and he knows hand to hand combat.

It should make me worry less, but it doesn't. I see him quickly check to make sure no one's looking, and then he presses a kiss to my jaw. I tell him to be careful, and he rolls his eyes.

It's been four hours since he left. Why hasn't he shown up at the lab yet? I see Mac walking down the hallway, and I hesitate before calling out to him. He walks into the lab, and I ask him if he's seen Danny.

He tells me that there was a shootout, and my heart leaps. I ask if Danny, and Flack, are okay, and Mac nods. He says that they're giving their statements downstairs and that they'll be up in a while. I wait for Mac to go and sigh, but he doubles back. He asks why I was looking for Danny, and I know I'm caught.

I finally manage to stammer out that I have to ask him about something, and I know Mac doesn't buy it at all, but he lets it slide with a quick smile. He tells me that I shouldn't worry too much about Danny; that he's tough and won't go down without a fight. Mac walks out of the lab, leaving me to my thoughts.

I think Mac knows about me and Danny. Just then, the elevator doors ding, and I look over at one of the lab techs and ask them to seal the evidence I was working on back up. I tear off my latex gloves and try to not look too conspicuous as I look Danny over. Flack's talking to him, but I know Danny's seen me coming towards them.

I'm pretty much on top of them when Flack finally acknowledges my presence. I ask Danny if he's okay, and then I notice that Danny's shirt is covered in blood. He nods and says that the blood's not his, and I sigh. Just then, I forget all about the fact that no one knows about our relationship and I throw my arms around him.

I know people are staring, but I don't care. I feel him wrap his arms around me, and I hear someone clear their throat before I realize Mac's standing behind us. I feel like my legs are going to give out from underneath me, and then Mac tells us both to go to his office.

I know Stella and Flack are following us, and I know it's because they want to hear the explanation of my little outburst of affection. Mac asks us to sit down, and Stella and Flack come into the office. Mac looks from me to Danny, and I know I'm sunk.

He tells me what I did was a stupid thing to do, and asks what if the chief or inspector had been there. I stay quiet. To be honest, I'm scared of Mac when he yells, and I don't want him to raise his voice at me. I know that I'll probably have a traumatic flashback to my own father, and he pauses long enough to notice I'm being deathly quiet. Danny speaks up for me, and says that I was worried, that my impulsive action was normal.

I can tell that Stella, Flack and Mac are all staring at me and Danny, even though I'm staring at the floor.

Mac sighs heavily, and I look up quickly to see him staring at Danny. Mac asks in a hushed tone if Danny and I are in a relationship. Danny says yes, that we are, and then I feel him inch closer to me.

Mac tells us to keep it out of the workplace.

Once back at Danny's place, I notice that he's quieter than usual. I ask if something's wrong, and he shakes his head.

Instead of words, he suddenly befriends actions and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. I thread my fingers through the back of his hair, and I realize he's crying. I ask him what's wrong, and he takes a deep breath before telling me what really happened during the shootout.

He tells me that he was almost killed, and I hold him tighter.

I stay the night, and I wake up the next morning to find that he's wound around me, nose tucked up under my chin.

I'd spent a good deal of the night watching him sleep, waking him from his nightmares, and eventually, spooning.

His breathing warms my neck, and I notice that it's even, steady, and I know he's dreaming. When we go in to work, we have a few moments of alone time in the elevator before it reaches floor thirty four. He presses quick, light kisses to my jaw and neck, and when the elevator dings to let us know we're at our stop, he slowly backs away, keeping what Mac told us yesterday in mind.

Part of me wants to say the hell with it and flip the emergency switch in the elevator so we have more time together.

But I resist, and I know it's for the better.

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